A Hunter's Tail
by Grazehunter
Summary: Who really shot Bambi's Mom? Told through the eyes of the very hunter who pulled the trigger himself. Images by unicorn-skydancer08 and kichisu on deviantart


The bitter cold echoed in the Sniper's mind. His hands were numb and his skin pale as tiny icicles formed on the brim of the tiny strands of hair that made up his beard. Across from him was a small, dwindling fire and another man huddled close by, unfazed by the cold.

"How can ya stand this 24/7 mate?"

Even on vacation, the Soldier still wore that petty helmet of his, and it was still two sizes too big for him. However, he merely grunted.

"When you live here for most of your life, you'll become one with the cold son."

"I'm not your son," the Sniper rolled his eyes.

"Quit yappin'," The Soldier barked, "sooner or later you'll attract some wolves with that accent of yours."

The Sniper turned to view the wilderness ahead. It was a cold winter night indeed. The trees were barren and lifeless while the pure white snow seemed to show how pale and dead the Earth truly was. But as a mercenary, death was a part of success. It was a sign of victory. But it wasn't something he was accustomed to.

During the winter season, RED Team had decided on vacationing. However, that meant going back to Australia to visit his parents. As keen as he was to go back to the outback, he couldn't stand living with his dad for the next two weeks. The sniper, or Davy Mundy as his parents knew him, had figured it would involve lots of yelling and mum trying to piece it all together.

Thankfully, the Soldier was going back to his part in America, where he would go on a hunting trip. Figuring he could hone his skills and stay as far away from his family at the same time, the Sniper instantly volunteered to go. After all, no one else wanted to spend his vacation in some beaten, raggedy old tent in a typical temperate forest.

And they were right in that regard. They had arrived here two days prior, set up camp, and hunted a couple of squirrels and quails. However, they had not yet seen any sign of big game. This had caused the Soldier to suggest they go deeper into the woods tomorrow. With a limited budget, they had been feasting on squirrel and quail meat. But now, they were hoping to take down something big.

"Hope you're as good as a shot here as you are back in 2 Fort, "the Soldier murmured as he walked over to the tent.

The Sniper chuckled at this comment, his skin riddled with goose bumps. "I-I can-can kill a man from 300 yar-yards."

The wind was starting to pick up. Already, the Sniper could feel his skin crawl and his glasses fog up. Getting up to go into the tent himself, he could see the Soldier sitting on his mat, his eyes transfixed on the "roof" above their heads.

"An animal isn't the same as one of those BLU Maggots we fight. You can't just go guns blazing…"

He got up and tapped his helmet, specifically in his forehead. "…you need tactics and skill. A buck could hear you a good mile or so away if the wind is blowing against you. If you make so much as a sound you'll be found and you'll miss."

Davy merely lied back down. "I've gone hunting before sir, you don't need to tell me how to do my job." Even away from the battlefield, the Sniper still had to call the Soldier "sir".

The Soldier simply took off his helmet and went back down on his mat with a sigh. "It must be a tough winter out there. Bucks are going to be more adventurous and desperate when the time calls."

The Sniper was already plopped on the damp pillow, his eyes drifting slowly into a deep slumber. By the time nightfall had approached, the two were snoring in their tents.

The morning was fairly clear, the blizzard now completely cleared out. _At least for now_ Sniper thought dreadfully.

The two had breakfast before moving towards a frost-covered crate, the Mann Co. lettering barely visible over the ice. Lifting the lid, the two men examined the contents.

The Soldier's shotgun and Sniper's rifle laid neatly inside with a dozen or so bullets. These weapons had already proven time and time again that they could kill armored foes. Deer hide would have little to know resistance against their bullets.

The Sniper began to fiddle with the scope, attaching wires and checking the gun to make sure it wouldn't misfire. They had clean the weapons before to avoid such a case, but it was still a good idea to make sure there was no bullet locked in the chamber before setting out to the meadow.

The Soldier cocked his shotgun back, "Let's get a move on. It's best to start early in the morning son."

The two were making good time until they came upon a set of trees. There, the soldier set up his position near a bush. The Sniper scanned the area a bit, taking in the detail as if it was some sort of battle.

There was a frozen plain ahead, where tiny patches of spring grass were already forming. From across, he could see how dead winter truly was. It seemed as though they would be hear for quite some time. Finding a stump to lay by, the Sniper sat down and dug into his vest to find a tattered old photo depicting a family over a beautiful Australian outback. The mother was somewhat short, with brown hair and beaded glasses. The father was taller, with a slim figure that made him look like a tree trunk. His long, hard face regarded the camera sternly and his square glasses did nothing to change that. The young boy in the center was wearing a pair of sunglasses, a wooden gun tucked firmly in his chubby arms.

_Boy was I fat back then_ the Sniper chuckled to himself. He recalled the time when his family was happy. When his father and mother would take him out to see the kangaroos and koala bears. When they would camp under the moonlight and sing campfire songs till the moon was high in the night sky. Those were the good days back then. But after he became a mercenary, it all changed.

His parents never took kindly to mercenaries, and to have their own son becoming one made both of them furious. In the end, the Sniper had left the house with a weeping mother and screaming father.

Things did change afterwards. His mother tried to accept her son for who he was, and even sent him a care package from home every now and then, although the mail here was unpredictable. That was one of the good things about his mother. She would always try to bring the family back together. Try to mend what was broken. But neither he nor his father were willing to make the necessary adjustments. His father still believed that his son should get a better job while the Sniper felt fine enough in his position. He was getting good pay and he was doing something. Maybe he wasn't in the war, but he wasn't lying around in some shallow office with an alligator shoved up his...

A snap caused the Sniper to wake from his daydream. The Soldier had stopped as well, his eyes scanning the trees and field ahead for any sign.

_Snap._

The Sniper pulled out his rifle, his eyes scanning the plain before him. Suddenly, a brown form rose over a white crested hill. The creature had nimble legs and a short tail.

_Bloody whitetail deer._

The deer seemed to be an adult doe by the looks of it, though the distance was too far to tell. A slight breeze crept from behind and continued south. The Sniper was unfazed, his arm bringing up the rifle as he peered through the scope.

The deer made a slight sound and suddenly a second, smaller one came out. It was a fawn by the looks of it, but the Sniper couldn't tell. For all he knew, it could easily be something else. He was still groggy from his less-then comfortable sleep.

His vision was impaired and his judgment of the distance was sketchy. As he raised the rifle, he could see that the two animals were nibbling on the tiny patch of spring grass forming over the barren wasteland.

_Must have been the freshest thing they've eaten in months..._

As he raised the rifle, he began to concentrate. He made sure that the bars were lined up so that his target was on the border of the coordinates necessary to make up for the slight breeze.

_Thump._

He could feel his heart thumping, his blood running as the cold metal bullet slid into the chamber, it's intimate shape preparing to engage at the speed of sound. His slender finger hovering mere millimeters from the trigger.

_Thump._

The bigger one would be an impressive trophy. He was zoning out, the environment around him all but a nebulous dream. Reality consisted of him, his rifle, and the two targets ahead of him.

_Thump._

The Sniper took in a deep breath, his nerves calming as the cold air rushed into his larynx. Suddenly the doe lifted her head, eyes wide as it stared down the scope.

_Shoot._

In mere seconds, the two deer took off, pushing out snow into the sky as the Sniper hastily jammed his finger against the trigger.

_Bang! Pow!_

The shot echoed throughout the forest, but the two deer still continued their quick dash to the thicket, oblivious to any other danger. The Sniper was cursing as he grabbed another bullet from his vest, hastily slipping it into the chamber as he loaded the rifle.

He raised his arm again, anger plastered over his rough features as he quickly looked in the scope.

_Steady._

The fawn was already near the thicket, its mother close behind.

_Aim._

She was in his sights, lined up right dead center. It was now or never.

_BANG!_

Time stood absolutely still. The breeze had stopped and he felt no cold what's so ever. The forest was frozen in place.

_Thump._

But it wasn't his heart this time. Instead, the body of the doe had been in mid-air for what seemed like a minute before crashing into the snow, kicking up ice into the air.

The Sniper exhaled, a sense of relief and euphoria now expressed prominently on his face.

"Darn good shooting," the Soldier exclaimed. However, he stopped short. "Let's make sure its dead first."

So the two hiked out of the clearing to the hill where the doe laid peacefully. It was tranquil, the soft brown fur in complete contrast to the pure, milky white terrain. Her eyes were closed as if she was sleeping on a cloud.

Then the pure white snow began to turn a deep, maroon red. It was as if someone had poured red syrup over shaved ice.

That was when the two hunters stood still. The creature before them had been once so filled with life. Now it was an empty husk, the contents of its purity spread out for all to see.

For a good minute or so, neither of them moved to check if she was dead. It was already quite apparent that she was. Instead, they just began to think about their latest shot.

Unlike the quail or squirrels, deer were considered to be beautiful, even pure in some cultures. However, here laid the spirit of the forest, a goddess slain by two ambitious mercenaries without a proper hunting license.

"Good shot…"the Soldier murmured. From the tone the Sniper detected something he didn't quite understand. Was it remorse?

The Sniper began to wonder who this doe was. Clearly, she must have been a mother, the smaller deer being her fawn. What would happen to her baby? The fawn hadn't turned around, clearly too scared or distracted to notice its mom was no longer behind it. Did the doe have a mate? Maybe she was part of a herd. Or maybe she was just trying to make ends meet like his own mother.

_What 'ave I done? _

It was a silly question to ask, for he knew exactly what he had done. He had done it for sport. For the meat. For the fact that they would be eating deer tonight instead of quail and squirrel.

"I…I…can't do it."

The Sniper looked up, his eyes fixed on the Soldier. The man was built like a machine, but his heart was still filled with an inner child. The Soldier turned to face his companion, his eyes glassy.

"You-you do it."

The Sniper wanted to say he couldn't do it either. He couldn't take this beautiful, mystical creature and skin it. He couldn't deform her. She was…too pure to be put through that kind of treatment.

But he automatically took out his kukri, and dove the blade into the soft fur, through the flesh and bone. For the entire duration, the Soldier merely watched as the Sniper slowly, methodically, and subconsciously, skinned the doe.

When he was finished, the snow was already floating in tiny little snowflakes, their surfaces melting on his skin as they formed pristine droplets that skimmed over his rough surface.

He hadn't realized he had sweated through the whole ordeal. The two were silent, neither uttering a word to each other as they trekked back to camp.

That night, they ate in silence, the wind howling over their heads as if it was crying. The meat was succulent, fresh, and a bit sweet. It was…pure.

Finally, the Sniper managed to speak. "Do ya' think her fawn will be okay?"

The Soldier looked at the Sniper, and sighed. "Most fawns don't last a day without their mothers. And this is winter on top of it."

The two resumed their code of silence. When they were done eating, they simply began to pack their things and put out the fire.

That night, the Sniper had a terrible dream. He was running down the hill, his lungs nearly bursting as he screamed for the figure in front of him to keep going.

"_Don't stop running!"_

_BANG!_

The Sniper woke with a start, his eyes taking in the scene before him. The Soldier was already outside, his face no longer as grim as it had been earlier.

The two made the final arrangements and left the forest. As they drove down the two-way rode, the Sniper turned to look at the dead trees and white-capped mountains ahead.

They had buried the doe earlier. None of them could bear taking it with them. She wasn't a trophy. She was a mother.

As time passed on, the two began to talk and laugh at old jokes. By the time they cleared the forest, it was as if nothing had happened at all.

When they did return to 2Fort, the Sniper and Soldier had told their hunting stories to anyone who stood in their midst for more then two seconds. However, they managed to leave out the doe in almost all their variations.

One night however, the Sniper was sleeping in his car when he had the same dream.

"_Don't stop running!"_

The voice was oddly female. The object ahead of him had four legs, and white spots on its back: a fawn. It was then that the Sniper realized he must have been viewing the fawn's mother when-

BANG!

The explosion woke the Sniper from his nightmare, his hands scrambling for his glasses.

In the distance, he could see BLU Team assaulting the base from the front, their arms waving madly as rockets spiraled into towers and satellite dishes. They would all be easy pickings for him.

In the aftermath, he had counted around 20 kills. 13 more kills then last time. The RED base had sustained extensive damage though, and the team would have to move again.

But something was still plaguing his mind. Normally, he would be happy and boastful at this momentous achievement, and he was indeed happy. However, something was itching him in the back of his head.

"Good work son!" The Soldier had yelled, his burly arm patting the tall Australian on the back.

"Would you mind," the Sniper mused, "if we talk for a bit?"

The Soldier's grin faded and he gave a grunt of confirmation. When the two had finished celebrating with their fellow RED's, the two men met at the dilapidated roof of the tower.

For a moment, the two were silent, their eyes just gazing up at the stars above. It was Sniper who finally broke the peace.

"Do you still think about _her?"_

"Sometimes…"the Soldier murmured.

"I was just wonderin' how it can be so blatantly easy to kill all them nasty BLU's…but be so emotionally hard to kill one deer."

The two thought about it for a long time. They thought about it until the sun began to rise in the east. They thought about it long into the following night…and still couldn't comprehend how to answer it.


End file.
